Monday, May 16, 2011

Temporary Insanity

I was struck by an insanity spell on Saturday. Earlier in the week, in anticipation of my Aunt Winkie's visit, I decided that it was about time we painted the open ceiling in our makeshift basement guest room.

Now, if I had planned it right, this would have worked like a dream: do the prep work, rent the equipment, and buy the paint the night before, then get up early and get going. That's not what I did.  I noted that she wasn't due to arrive until about 6 p.m., so I reasoned I had plennnnty of time to do the project on Saturday.

I woke up with a very sore throat, developed a migraine, dawdled over breakfast, browsed through Home Depot, then made it home in the early afternoon. I ate lunch, checked Facebook and e-mail ... Around 3:00 p.m., I made it down to the basement. No panic.
The room all draped and prepped.
I was only doing the ceiling, not the walls.
Once we figured out the sprayer, things went quickly.

The "ceiling" primed.
But - oops - I sprayed a little heavily. Very, very heavily. (When will I learn that priming does not have "opaque coat" as its objective?) The paint started dripping on me, on the floor, on anything that wasn't covered. It was a right royal mess.

And, although the paint can said it would be dry enough for a second coat in one hour, it was still dripping and wet (not even tacky) after two. And I had completely forgotten that the paint would SMELL for a few days - what a way to welcome your guest!

THAT's when I started to panic. It was a disaster.

This is as good as it got.
At least the bed looks nice and is comfortable.
At 5:30 p.m., we were gathering up all the drop cloths, wiping the paint puddles on the floor and scrambling to get the paint off ourselves before Aunt Winkie arrived, when she called to give us a courteous ten-minute warning.

I was just towelling off after my shower when the doorbell rang. Steve looked like he had been pelted by a bird with the runs.

It was nuts. 

Fortunately, Winkie is a good sport. She told us she did wake up in the middle of the first night and think, "I don't know if I can handle the smell," but then promptly went back to sleep. (We Simpsons are generally good eaters and sleepers.) Thank goodness.

After all that, we didn't even get the actual paint on, we almost forgot to return the rental sprayer, and ran up a rental bill of over $200!

Our dinner at Stoneface Dolly's on Saturday and our Sunday jaunt to the tulip festival were great compensation, but I think I've added another story to the ludicrous History of Wynn Anne's Bright Ideas.

Next time she visits (if she's brave enough to do so), I will leave well enough alone and just buy a fresh bunch of pretty flowers.

1 comment:

  1. Heehee... sounds like something I would do. You always have such great stories!

    And I totally didn't realize sleeping was a Simpson family thing, too. I guess I was doomed from the start... my mom's sisters always tell me sleeping is a "Paulen" thing. That love of sleep makes me very thankful that Drew seems to have inherited the trait, too!


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